


it's all the rage back home

by mr_charles



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Barebacking, F/M, M/M, Role Playing, Rough Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_charles/pseuds/mr_charles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>obligatory hooker!AU with Jim as Gotham's favorite rent boy</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's all the rage back home

Alfred always comes to his place. Rich men looking for pretty boys on the cheap isn't a rare occurrence in the Narrows but what is rare is Alfred's insistence that they use Jim's little studio for their weekly meetings. Jim knows who he is, knows who he takes care of. He knows Alfred only sees him when the boy gets too out of control. For awhile there, Alfred was sneaking over every night.

It's the same routine. Jim makes dinner, fully dressed, and talks to Alfred about his week. He listens intently (well, he pretends he is- for what Alfred leaves by his coffee maker, the man has got to know that Jim sometimes checks out while Alfred sighs about Wayne Industries) over dinner. Sometimes all Alfred needs is to curl up on the sagging couch while Jim strokes his arm and coos that he's doing such a great job and he's such a wonderful man for sticking around after the...tragedy. 

(none of the news outlets called the Wayne murder a "murder", they called it a "tragedy" so Jim figures it's best to use that word here)

"You're such a brave man," Jim sighs, stroking Alfred's face. "Bruce is so lucky to have you."

That's usually when Alfred fucks him.

If it wasn't for the dinner and ego stroking, Jim would complain that Alfred takes too long to fuck him. But he goes into these dates knowing they'll take up his whole night. Alfred has to always be touching him when they fuck. Jim started prepping himself in hopes that Alfred would speed things along, but even then Alfred just double checks to make sure he doesn't hurt Jim.

_I've been bent over for three minute fucks before, Alfred_ , he wants to say but instead he just wraps his legs around Alfred's waist and lets out small noises as he fucks him slowly. He thinks Alfred likes the closeness, the intimacy. Even if Jim tries to encourage him to fuck him hard, Alfred just shakes his head and keeps his pace slow. 

Although Jim will never admit that the slow press of Alfred's dick inside him feels  _wonderful_ , especially after a week of being bent over in alleys. 

Alfred always comes first and always with a shocked noise, like he's surprised by his orgasm. He grips Jim's dick and gets him off quickly, liking when Jim rolls his eyes back and screams.

Most of the time, that's faked. He's not sure if Alfred knows. 

But Alfred always cleans up afterwards- throws the condom away, uses the wipes in Jim's bathroom to clean up, and even cleans up the dishes from dinner. He always climbs back into bed with Jim and they sleep. Jim's never sure how long he's there for but when he wakes up in the morning, Alfred is gone and there's a crisp envelope next to his coffee pot. 

 

Jim never thought about acting. He was in a play in the seventh grade but just stumbled through it and ran off-stage as soon as he could. 

But he must have learned something because once a month, he gets to play pretend with Oswald.

(Jim thought it was a fake name until after their fourth date when he saw the man out grocery shopping with his mother, an old frilly bat who simultaneously was berating him and smothering him in the bread aisle)

Jim gets a text message, a short one that just reads  _Mother is not home_ and Jim starts tearing apart his closet trying to find where he put that damn uniform. Oswald gave him the money to buy the costume but only if Jim promised to wear it every time they saw each other. 

"Oswald Cobblepot!" Jim bellows, pounding on the apartment door with his fist. "GCPD! Open up!"

Oswald's hands shake as he opens the door. "O-Officer," he stammers. "What are you doing here?"

"Shut up and let me in, Cobblepot."

It's easy to push this weird pale guy around and tell him to put his hands on the wall. 

"I told you if I had to come back again that you'd be gettin' strip searched," Jim tells him. The tips of Oswald's ears turn pink but he strips down to his underpants quickly. 

"Please don't arrest me," Oswald whines, fingers curling at his sides, "I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" Jim raises an eyebrow. Oswald nods quickly. "Get to it."

Oswald is tripping over himself as he kneels, clumsy fingers pulling Jim out of his trousers. 

He's terrible at this. But Jim still plays with his hair as he tries. 

"You keep callin' me over here, Oswald. Startin' to think you're sweet on me," Jim drawls, hips pumping slowly. Oswald pulls off, his lips are swollen and slick.

" _Please_."

Jim never thought "brutal police sex" was a thing until he realized that Oswald wanted almost no prep wanted to be fucked  _hard._

So Jim rips his underpants off, lifts him against the door and Oswald giggles as he wraps his legs around Jim's waist. A few fumbling tries but soon Jim gets his dick in him. Oswald yelps like a dog. Jim fucks him against the door and thinks Oswald gets off on knowing his mother could walk in any minute. 

"What is it, Oswald?" Jim kisses his neck softly. "You get off on knowing mommy will walk in and see her little boy getting fucked by a cop?"

Oswald wails and comes all over himself. Jim sets him down softly, tucking his still hard dick back into his pants. He's been doing this job for so long that orgasms are more like Christmas bonuses. Oswald is still gasping for breath as he points to an antique pink tea set on a corner table. 

Mrs. Cobblepot sees Jim on the street on his way out. Jim smiles as he strolls past her but she just curses about the police and their dirty bribes.

 

"Hi!" The voice on the other end of the phone is sweet and feminine. "Is this...Jim?"

"This is Jim. How can I be of service?"

She lives in a goddamned clock tower. Jim's seen her picture in the society pages of the newspaper. Barbara Kean. Jim shows up at her place in a nice shirt and trousers in case she needs a date to some gala charity opening bullshit thing but she's barefoot and wearing a short, silky purple robe that barely covers her ass and  _oh yeah_ Jim can get behind this. 

"Are there any rules?" Barbara asks, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink.

Jim shrugs. "Just don't kill me. You can pay me after we're done."

She smiles again and pulls Jim towards her bedroom. 

Jim sees the flash of dark hair hiding behind the door as soon as Barbara gets her robe opened. He doesn't say anything to Barbara but he assumes this is what she meant when she asked for the rules. There's a sigh when Barbara is naked on the bed, quiet enough to be ignored but Jim knows it's a woman behind that door. 

Barbara is shy. When she asks him to eat her out, it's followed by a "please?"

Jim doesn't take it personally that Barbara looks at who ever is behind that door while he licks her. The only time she turns away is when she comes with an unladylike shout of "oh  _fuck_!" and tries to tug on Jim's short hair. 

He tries to stay out of the line of vision for their guest when he fucks Barbara. She smiles and giggles during sex, which Jim has to admit is kind of charming. She even lets him come on her tits after she shrieks out another orgasm. 

"Did you want me to stay?" he offers. It's an innocuous question but the way Barbara's eyes widen, just slightly, shows she knows what he means. 

"No." She pauses. "Your money is by the phone by the front door."

 

Harvey is one of Jim's regulars. As in, like, sometimes Harvey will fuck him every day for two weeks and then not call him for three months before repeating regulars. 

Jim likes Harvey because Harvey doesn't need anything except a whore. Jim doesn't have to dress up or dress down or play pretend. 

Well, he kind of has to play pretend. Jim's never been particularly mouthy in bed (unless he's getting paid) but Harvey likes him facedown in cheap hotel sheets, ass in the air, and groaning "give it to me, Harvey".

Harvey fucks him good. Like Jim hopes he fucks customers as well as Harvey fucks him. He thinks Harvey is a cop but then again, half the folks in this town carry guns anyway. Harvey doesn't do pillow talk. As soon as he's come all over Jim's ass, he's buttoning, zipping, and leaving. 

But at least he pays.

Harvey gets off on the obscenity of things. The cheap motel room, the sounds of his balls smacking against Jim as he fucks him from behind. The groaning, the moaning, the headboard beating against cheap drywall- all of it is as important to Harvey as the fucking itself. He always takes Jim from behind but always reaches around or makes sure Jim can grind into the scratchy sheets underneath him. He  _always_ makes sure Jim comes. He's nice like that. 

"God, you're so pretty when you come," Harvey grunts into Jim's neck, beard rubbing the skin raw. Jim pushes his ass back against him and whines for it. "Want me to come on you, pretty boy?"

" _Yes_ ," Jim hisses into the sheets, twitching as Harvey fucks him into over stimulation. 

"Say it, pretty boy."

"Come on me,  _please._ "

Sometimes, with Harvey, he doesn't have to fake it. 


End file.
